


Is This It?

by whenitstarted



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Supernatural - Freeform, also lucifer is called luke because whose name is lucifer, i'm freaking out okay, this is my first destiel fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:50:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1208353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenitstarted/pseuds/whenitstarted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Destiel AU.</p><p>Normal seventeen year old Dean and an also seventeen year old Cas, who dresses like he's in the wrong era and has douchey hair and too-tight acid washed jeans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Supernatural fandom! I am quite new to writing in this fandom and so I'm really, really nervous. This is my very first time writing on AO3 and first time posting a destiel fic so please be gentle with me and let me know what you think! This is chapter one of I don't know how many yet, but if people respond nicely to it, I'll try and update frequently! Ps, the title comes from the band, The Strokes.

 

Saturday morning, Dean wakes up to a quiet, sunlit bedroom. It feels midday but he can't be sure because he's too relaxed to roll over and look at the clock on his bedside table. Instead, he lets his eyes rest a bit longer, in that limbo where he knows he's lying in his bed, but he's still having dreams. After quite some time, or maybe none at all, his eyes snap open in realization that his house is eerily quiet. Normally he's up by ten on weekends because his family can't handle having a relaxing morning for once in their lives. His Dad should be around trying to fix things in the house that aren't really broken; the dripping faucet that has dripped since Dean himself was about seven years old, but Saturday morning just _feels_ like the right time for him to bust out the tools and curse loudly at that God-forsaken-motherfucking-sink.

And Mom, his mother should be bustling about the house and accidentally waking Dean on her second trip to his room for dirty clothes. She always has to do two sweeps because Dean is an absolute pig and throws his clothes anywhere. She should have already been in here, sticking her arm in the leg of his skinny jeans to pull them back out the right way and have the spare change in his pocket dribble out, clanking against the hardwood floor, startling him into consciousness. And then she whispers an apology, telling him to go back to sleep even though they both know he won't be able to. He and Sam, his younger brother are cursed to facing mornings on the weekends because their parents are incapable of letting them sleep in, it seems. But, not this morning, for whatever reason.

Dean groans as he rolls onto his side, pressing his face into his pillow and squinting at the clock, which is blinking back at him 12:00 in red lines. Which means they must have lost power last night and the clock reset, so instead, he fumbles to grab his cell phone, only to find the same thing there. Which, maybe if he were more awake, he'd be curious about. Instead, he relishes in the quiet house and tries to close his eyes once more, knowing it's a futile attempt. Really just looking for an excuse to not get out of bed and face the day quite yet.

But apparently, his neighbors did not get the memo that today Dean wants to stay in bed, because a second later he's hearing kids laughing and shushing each other and it sounds like they are right outside his window. He ignores it. Until about, three fucking minutes later, he hears them being told off by some angry guy, once again, directly outside his window. Or maybe not, he isn't sure. But it's all much too loud for him to rest any longer. Sighing, Dean tightens his blanket around his bare shoulders and stands, padding over to the window and peering out. Two kids, that Dean hasn't ever seen before in this neighborhood that he has lived in his whole life, are being yelled at by a taller man -guy? Teenager? Dean can't tell, the sun is bright and he's tired- in the middle of the cal de sac. Another kid, this one much younger and with red hair is pulled out of one of the shrubs on the side of Dean's house, holding a crate of eggs. Dean has no idea who these people are; the two initial boys, they look like twins. Dark hair, same height, dressed funny in high-water pants and ratty shoes. Even their hair style is the same, combed neatly to one side and just really old fashioned looking. The little red headed kid, he's dressed in similar clothes and Dean wonders if they're all brothers and he's wearing hand-me-downs of the two older boys. He knows his own little brother has more than a few hand-me-downs from him.

The oldest looking guy, he's blonde but his hair looks unclean. Dean thinks it's probably much blonder without all the fucking grease in it. And the last kid, the one who was pulling the little shit with the eggs out of his bushes -if they egged his house, Dean is going to have a problem with them- looks about his own age. Seventeen, maybe sixteen. Older than the freaky twins but younger than the blonde guy. He's got black hair, which also seems to have a shitton -legitimate measurement, for Dean- of grease in it as well, but it's styled differently than the other guy's. All in all, this is fucking confusing because last Dean checked, his was the only family in the cal de sac that even had children, and now there's a bunch of them being loud and annoying him. He pops his window open, standing on his tip-toes to listen to what the oldest guy is saying, which he hears from mid-sentence.

"-bad start. Cut the shit, leave the guy alone. Go play in your own yard or something. Don't let me catch you foolin' with anyone, you hear me?"

This is leading Dean to believe that his house was just saved from being egged, in which case, he needs to give the guy a proper thank you. Shrugging his blanket onto the floor, he grabs a shirt hanging over the back of his chair -further proof that his Mom has not been in his room this morning- and heads out of his room in his sweats and a plain white V-neck. He checks to see if anyone is in their bedroom before toppling down the carpeted stairs, coming up empty. They must have all gone out for some family thing and let Dean sleep, which is fucking great.

Dean turns, unlocking the front door and stepping onto his porch, the three shitheads all in front of one of the houses across the circular rode from his house, sitting on the grass. Looking around, he spots the two older guys with the greasy hair, walking towards the house next door to his. He hadn't even noticed their clothing because he was so thrown off by their hair, but now that he's more awake he can see them clearly. The blonde guy, he's wearing a jean jacket and black jeans, which appear to be high wasted. Lets not forget the tye-dye shirt poking out underneath said jean jacket. The dark haired guy is wearing similar clothing, only he's got a leather jacket over a regular, plain white T-shirt, paired with tight, ripped and fucking _acid washed_ jeans.

Literally, what the fuck.

"Hey!" Dean shouts after them, stopping them before they could get to the house. "Hey, uh, wait up."

The blonde guy turns and flashes Dean a smile, taking a comb out of his back pocket and combing the greasy mop that is his hair back. It reminds Dean of the guys in the musical. The musical that he most definitely has not watched before. The one where he knows none of the songs by heart. That one. "Hello," he greets, stuffing the comb back into his pocket and offering Dean his hand. "I'm Gabriel. This is Castiel."

Dean takes his hand, shaking it and nodding at Castiel, who doesn't offer his own hand. "Dean," he says. "I just, I uh. Are you new here, or am I going crazy?"

Castiel smiles, ducking his head towards the ground to hide it. His dark hair falls in front of his eyes. Dean thinks it looks like Johnny Depp's hair when he went through that douchey phase, but it doesn't look half bad on this kid.

"Yeah, uh, we're new. Live here," he jabs his thumb behind him and Gabriel at what use to be the Johnson's house. "Good to meet you."

"Yeah, you too," he says, unable to pry his eyes off of Castiel. Until he remembers why he came out here in the first place. He raises his hand up to his eyes, acting as a visor to block the sun from his eyes. Flashing a smile at Gabriel, he continues, "did you guys stop those kids from egging my house?"

"From what?" Gabriel asks, head tilting slightly. Castiel nods though, nudging the other boy.

"When I found Lucas he had a crate of eggs with him. So yeah, you're welcome for that." The way he speaks, like some smug, entitled dickhead has Dean raising an eyebrow at the kid. The smirk on Castiel's face shows he's only teasing, but Dean is still getting weird vibes from the kid. He didn't shake his hand, or introduce himself. He's talking to Dean like Dean owes him something, which, yeah, he guesses he kind of does. Because is house isn't covered in egg right now.

"Why were they gonna egg my house? I've never even seen them before."

Gabriel is the one to answer him with, "they always prank the-" before he gets elbowed not so subtly in the side and Castiel finishes for him with a simple, "because they're assholes."

Dean wants to question them, ask what Gabriel was going to say but he doesn't. Just nods and stands there awkwardly with the two of them for a second before Castiel speaks again.

"So um, you live here with your parents?" His eyes flick to Gabriel's before locking back with Dean's. "Siblings?"

He nods again, scratching at the back of his neck for lack of something else to do with his hands. "Yeah. My parents and me and my brother, Sammy. He's great, not like those shitheads," he grins, looking in the direction of the other kids still sat on the front lawn of one of the houses. "They're actually not home right now. I don't really know where they could be at, but you'll seem 'em around I'm sure."

Castiel and Gabriel share a sad look when Dean drops his head to the ground, looking at his feet because he isn't so good at holding eye contact and Castiel's blue eyes are practically _demanding_ his immediate attention. Dean misses the look shared between the two, and when he looks up he's smiling. "You guys live here though? You brothers or somethin'?"

"Yeah," Gabriel smiles genuinely as he answers, hooking his arm around Castiel's neck and pressing the knuckles of his other hand to his brother's head, noogie-ing him, which makes Dean laugh because it's such a brotherly thing to do; something he's caught himself doing to Sam on more than one occasion. "Cas is my baby bro." He plants a kiss on the top of his head, joining in with Dean's laughter once he sees Castiel's obvious annoyed face.

"He's barely a year older than me, but he still calls me that," he groans, rolling his blue eyes and attempting to fix his messy hair. Dean wants to tell him that his hair was messy before the noogie, but refrains because he likes these guys and doesn't want to seem like an asshole.

"Irish twins," Gabriel grins, letting his grip on his brother loosen, shrugging a shoulder. "Still my little brother, either way."

"Nah man, I get it," Dean shrugs, laughter dying out. "Sammy's only thirteen so he's still little enough to mess with, but even when we're older and he's probably bigger than me, he'll still be my little brother. That kind of stuff just never changes."

The brothers look thoughtful and Dean wonders if he said the wrong thing, but they both nod a second later, a soft smile on both their faces. Dean figures it's time for him to take his leave, so he smiles at the two, walking backwards slowly. "I should get home, but I'll see you guys around, yeah?"

"Of course," Castiel replies and Gabriel nods along. Dean smiles and awkwardly waves before turning fully around and walking back to his house, the sidewalk starting to burn the bottom of his bare feet from standing in the heat for so long. He thinks his new neighbors aren't so bad, despite their weird dress sense and greasy hair.

Before Dean closes the front door, he hears Gabriel shout, "Nice meeting you, Dean!" and he chuckles to himself, waving again at the pair before closing the door and heading up to his room to get his things together for a shower.

The brothers still stood on the sidewalk sigh once Dean's door is closed, frowning at each other. Gabriel lifts a shoulder in a shrug, then, much more gently that when Dean was around, hooks his arm around his little brother's neck and turns them around, towards their own house. Castiel slumps a bit against Gabriel, feet dragging against the sidewalk.

"Poor guy," Cas says.

"I know," Gabriel replies sadly.

"I wonder what happened?" He tips his head up to look at Gabriel, squinting away from the bright sun.

"I don't think we'll ever find out, little bro."

Castiel nods solemnly, sighing again. He isn't sure if Gabriel is right, obviously, but he does try to hold onto the hope that he's wrong; that Dean can be different than the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're probably confused right now but it'll make more sense later on! Let me know your thoughts and feelings, lovely humans!


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two!
> 
> Normal seventeen year old Dean and an also seventeen year old Cas, who dresses like he's in the wrong era and has douchey hair and too-tight acid washed jeans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit longer than the first chapter but that's because I couldn't stop myself so I'm sorry if its rambling at parts! Hopefully you enjoy it c:

Dean emerges from the shower, wiping the fogged over mirror clear with his hand and running a towel through his short hair. He wraps it around his waist, opening the door and already feeling goosebumps chill his skin as he enters his connected bedroom, goes to his dresser and hopes he'll have clean underwear without his Mom having done the laundry this morning. Luckily, he's still got enough for a few days. As he's about to pull on a pair of jeans over his boxer briefs, his eyes flick to his open door leading to the hallway and he grins, thinking better and throwing the pants back to their spot on the floor.

Might as well take advantage of this nice Saturday afternoon with the house to himself.

He ambles out of his room, hair still damp and unclothed minus his underwear. The carpet in the living room is warm and soft under his feet, but once he hits the kitchen he runs back to his room and pulls on a pair of socks because the tile is kind of freezing. But all in all, he figures it was a pretty solid decision because now he can _slide around_  while he cooks himself lunch. Which always makes things interesting. The seventeen year old picks out a box of Mac 'n' Cheese from the pantry and sets out to make himself food. Which, is something he is not too great at, having a Mother whose a great cook and actually enjoyed doing so for the last seventeen years of his life leaves him a bit clueless. He's the dish washer around here, not the cook.

While he waits on the water to boil, he finds a long purple sticky note on the front of the fridge. Plucking it off, he reads the note left for him;

_Dean,_   
_Me, your Dad and Sammy went over to Uncle Bobby's for a while, we'll let you know when we're on our way back. Maybe in a week, maybe longer. Be safe._   
_Love you always,_   
_Mom, Dad and Sam_   
_Ps, try not to flood the laundry room because it'll be you to clean it up if it happens again!_

The note leaves him frowning for quite some time. He's read it maybe ten times before he sets it on the counter and pours the dry noodles into the now boiling water. He doesn't even really want to eat it anymore because he's extremely thrown off, but goes about making it mindlessly, stirring the pot and staring at the note, as if it'll explain itself to him if he looks at it long enough. Why would his parents go off to his Uncles for some random period of time? And okay, even weirder, they didn't take Dean or even tell him about it beforehand. He sighs, pouring out the hot water and adding the fake, orange powder cheese substance. He isn't even thinking as he eats his Mac 'n' Cheese, hasn't even realized that he is. His bare back presses to the counter in the kitchen as he eats straight out of the pan he used to cook the noodles, because why waste a fucking bowl on it if he's going to have to be cleaning everything on his own? Which brings him to another problem; how is he suppose to pay for food for "a week, maybe longer"? He doesn't have a job, or a car for that matter to take him to said job that he doesn't have. Eventually he's going to run out of food! Dean Winchester needs his fucking food.

He's about to go get his cell phone and ring his parents when his front door is being knocked on and when he looks out the peephole, he can't even see anyone. Cracking the door open, his eyes dart down at the flash of red standing on his porch. The little red headed kid, who can't possibly be more than ten years old is standing before him, eyes set in kicked-puppy mode, wet and all. He opens his mouth to speak but closes it, bottom lip quivering as the kid bites back tears. Deans big brother instincts kick in immediately and he kneels down to his height, the door still not open all the way to hopefully hide the fact that he's in his underwear because that'd be pretty weird for everyone.

"You okay, little man?" He asks in his 'only for children' voice.

He shrugs, wiping the tears that shed off his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt -clearly old and now that he's up close, Dean can tell that it's a hand-me-down from one of the other boys- and sniffles. Dean wants to pull the poor kid in for a hug, but that'd be wildly inappropriate because of his lack of clothes. Instead he lifts the little boy's face with his two fingers under his chin, politely forcing him to look at Dean in the eyes and he smiles at him, kind and what he hopes is not threatening. "What's your name, bud?" He thinks Castiel called him Lucas earlier, but doesn't want to call him by name before asking for sake of being less weird.

He sniffles a bit more before quietly whispering out, "Luke."

"Well Luke, my name's Dean," he says, now taking the boy's tiny hand in his, giving it a shake. "You wanna tell me why you're crying?" He tries again, but the kid's cheeks go red, clearly embarrassed so Dean asks seriously, "you need me to go kick someone's butt?"

Luke smiles a little at that, eyes lightening a bit. "I wanted to tell you that m'sorry for earlier, sir. I didn't want to throw eggs at your house, I tried to tell 'em that it was a waste of food and not nice to you, but they made me." The kid has a that classic little kid whine to the last part, very little brotherly of him and reminding Dean of his own little brother when he forces him to do something he doesn't want to do.

"Well, you didn't even do it, right?" He asks, to which Luke shakes his head no. "Then that's a silly reason to cry, huh? I accept your apology, you don't have to feel bad about it."

Dean hears one of the boy's calling for Luke across the road and the little boy makes a face with his back to them, one that Dean sees and makes his gut twist a bit.

"I have to go now," he says, stepping backwards, but Dean grabs his shoulder once more, looking him straight in the eyes.

"You come over here whenever you want, alright? Just knock, I'll be home and you can come in and hang out, okay?"

He doesn't say more, just nods quickly and takes off for his own house, little legs running away from Dean and to the other boys. He has a bad feeling. The kid was practically sobbing over something he didn't even do, and he didn't want to go back and Dean has a soft spot for kids, so it's not sitting right with him. He sighs, standing and watching Luke get into his house, the door closing behind him and the other boys before he closes his own door and heads up to his room to put on clothes.

He feels off the rest of the afternoon.

~

All the clocks in Dean's house are flashing 12:00 so he unplugs them. He can't reset them because he doesn't know the actual time. Every time he looked, it was like they were mocking him by reading the same time as they had an hour ago. His phone is no different, and when he calls his parents, both their cells send him to voice mail after a couple rings, which is beyond aggravating. The sun is lower in the sky when he goes out to his front porch for lack of other things to do. The TV has nothing he wants to watch on it and he's bored of all his video games. He intended to lay on the swing and read a book he found on his Mom's shelf in the study, but that thought left as soon as he saw Gabriel and Castiel also outside. They're both smoking, which for a second makes Dean feel something like disappointment -he isn't sure why- when he catches sight of the dark haired boy with a smoke hanging out his lips, between pale, skinny fingers. He shakes that feeling away quickly and heads over, because Gabriel has an old fashioned grill out on their front porch and hell yes, Dean could go for a burger. Or just something he doesn't have to cook himself. Call him lazy. Because yeah, he is.

"Howdy neighbor!" Gabriel calls when he catches sight of Dean strolling over, and it puts a smile on Dean's face immediately.

"Hey guys," he nods, as does Castiel from where he's sat on the railing covering the perimeter of the porch, breathing out cigarette smoke and pushing his stupid hair out of his eyes. Dean leans against the fence, not yet entering their yard because he isn't sure if he's welcome yet. But then Castiel is rolling his eyes and waving him in with his free hand.

"How's your lazy Saturday been, Dean-o?" Gabriel asks, laying out a couple burgers on the grill. He raises another one for Dean to see, shaking it as if Dean is a dog and the uncooked meat is a dog treat. Or, well, uncooked meat works too. "You want?"

"Sure man, thanks," he smiles, closing the gate behind him and climbing the steps, leaning against a support beam at the top of the stairs closest to Castiel, even though he hates the smell of cigarettes. "Today's been weird, not gonna lie. That kid Luke came by and was pretty shook up."

"He's a sweet kid," Castiel comments, and his face looks saddened by the statement. "He was just born into the wrong family, I guess."

"What do you mean?" He asks, looking up towards Castiel. He was a bit taller than him when they were standing together earlier, but now Castiel is higher up from where he's sat. He cranes his neck upwards anyways.

Castiel turns his head the opposite way, letting a puff of smoke out from his full lips so it doesn't smack Dean in the face. He shrugs, reaching into a pocket on the inside of his leather jacket, pulling out a pack of smokes and popping the top, offering one to Dean. For a reason Dean isn't sure, he takes one with a shaky hand, leaning in with it pressed to his lips and letting Castiel light it for him. He coughs, but tries to play it off as nothing. He hopes it looks natural.

"I mean his brother's are asswipes to him," he answers, shrugging. (Dean grins at Gabriel's; "not everybody gets a cool brother like Cas did.") "Kid use cling to me and Gabe until they said he wasn't allowed around us anymore. He even told us he wasn't allowed to play anymore. Cute kid, his brothers are just mean to him."

Dean nods along, trying to get the hang of smoking, breathing in the disgusting clouds of smoke, holding it in his lungs, burning said lungs, and then breathing it out. And repeat. "Hold on, I thought you were new to the neighborhood?"

Castiel coughs, quickly flicking his blue eyes towards his brother who clears his throat, flipping the burgers. "We've known their family before. Before we moved here I mean."

"Oh," he answers simply, taking another puff. It burns less this time. "How old are they?"

"The twins are fifteen, Luke is eight," Castiel says, and Gabriel follows it with, "you want cheese on your burgers?" And that's the end of that conversation.

By the time the sun has almost left for the evening to trade spots with the moon, Dean is still sat at Gabriel and Castiel's. They've moved to the front lawn, paper plates scattered around them from their barbecue while they talk. Dean realizes he likes these two guys; their relationship with each other reminds him very much of his relationship with his brother and he likes seeing it in other people. Gabriel is one of the funniest people he's ever met, as well. He tells Dean stories -that Castiel said he's heard a hundred times, but still laughed along with them anyways- about before they got to the cal de sac. Like how at Gabriel's high school graduation, after getting his diploma, he promptly turned, ass to the crowd and mooned the entire arena of proud parents and school staff alike. Dean isn't sure if it actually  _happened,_  but he still nearly pissed his pants from laughing.

They also talk about Dean's family; little thirteen year old Sammy being the highlight of that talk because Dean tends to dote on him and brag when talking to other people about him. Because he's kind of a genius and stuff, no big deal. He talks about his Dad a bit too; how he's a local police officer and use to go on dangerous runs and bust drug dealers and stop bank robbers, but after he got shot (it wasn't bad, he had a bullet proof vest on and it just knicked his shoulder) and fell down a flight of concrete stairs, completely fucking up his right knee, he mostly has a desk job. He jokes that his Dad use to be cool and take him on non-threatening drive alongs when he was a kid and now he's picking up phones, filing paper work and giving out speeding tickets. The two brothers seem interested in what Dean is saying, like they're actually listening and not just asking to be polite. They're hanging onto every word he's saying, like they've never talked to someone before and everything is worth hearing. So he keeps going, talking about his Mom, a kindergarten teacher and also the nicest lady he's ever met. About how he doesn't know why they would just leave him at the house and take off for who knows how long and he only quiets once he realizes he's rambling and probably being rude.

He smiles at them a little sheepishly, slumping slightly because it's full-on getting dark, so he should probably leave soon. He can't remember ever having such a nice time with people he's just met. Castiel flops backwards onto the grass, his greasy hair flopping into his eyes. He turns his head towards Dean, who wishes he could not think about how nice Castiel looks laid out on his back like that. He's pretty comfortable with his sexuality, doesn't mind at all that he likes guys sometimes. Or most of the time. Whatever, point is that he's comfortable with himself, but wishes he'd not think about Castiel like that. He seems like he can be a cool friend, so why fuck that up by trying to get in the guy's pants?

"Dean? Hey, you in there?" Castiel is asking him, and he blinks himself out of his own brain, eyes darting to the boy now leaned up on his elbow, one hand raised so he could snap his fingers in front of his face. He smiles apologetically, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that?"

"I asked what you're planning to do tonight," he grins, flopping back down now that he's got Dean's attention.

"Oh. Nothing," he says simply, shrugging a shoulder. "I'll probably just hang out and watch The Walking Dead on netflix. Seeing as how my parents just bailed for no reason, I'm gonna be doing a lot of nothing for a while."

Cas makes a noise, understanding. Or maybe not, because then he's sitting back up on an elbow, sharing a look with his brother before looking back to Dean, head tilting confusedly; cutely. "The what? On what?"

Dean looks at him for a moment, glancing between the two boys who both look quite lost. "What?" He asks. "I don't get the question, man?"

"Nevermind," Castiel rolls his eyes, something Dean has seen a lot of today alone.

"The Walking Dead? You don't watch it?" He asks, mind wrapping around Castiel's words. "What planet are you guys even from? _Everyone_  watches it!"

"Never heard of it, dude," Gabriel says honestly, holding his hands out in front of him, as if to protect himself from Dean. Who finds himself laughing, shaking his head in amazement and amusement.

"Alright, tomorrow you guys are gonna come over and we're gonna cram in four seasons in the shortest amount of time possible. You down?"

"Totally down," Castiel flashes him a grin, and Dean swears he sees him wink, but that was probably his mind fucking with him, like it has been all day. Honestly this might as well all be some really elaborate dream with how weird today has been, the whole thing fucking with his mind. Deciding what's real isn't something Dean thinks he's in the position to do right now, so he just blushes in the moonlight, smiling behind his hand to try and cover how giddy flirtatious Castiel makes him.

Dean nods, stretching his arms over his head, feeling the cool night air paint goosebumps across his exposed arms. He shivers, yawning and standing on shaky-from-sitting-too-long legs and smiles down at the two brothers. "Great. Sounds like a plan. Just come over whenever you want, and if you try and bail, I'm barging into your house and dragging you to mine. I don't joke about The fucking Walking Dead, guys."

The sincerity in his voice has both the boys laughing, Castiel rolling his eyes as he stands up along with Dean, throwing a pile of ripped up grass at his brother's face and walking towards the sidewalk with Dean, ignoring Gabriel's sputtering and insults. He opens the gate for Dean, closing it behind him and leaning forward, towards Dean. Who also leans against the fence, only to the left of Castiel, so they aren't face to face. Side to side, rather. "So I'll see you guys tomorrow?" He asks, turning his head towards his new friend, green eyes locking with blue ones.

"Of course, Dean," he smiles, then, very Castiel of him, rolls his eyes. "We live next door, how could we get away with not seeing you?" He teases and Dean chuckles, rolling his own eyes.

"Don't pretend like you don't wanna see me," Dean smiles, batting his eyes at Castiel who laughs, shoving his shoulder.

"You think awful highly of yourself, eh?"

"Well I think every one should," he replies seriously, then deadpans, "I'm pretty adorable."

Castiel laughs, and it sounds different than the other times Dean heard it earlier today. Like when Gabriel said something stupid that made Dean full on belly laugh, Castiel would laugh along but now Dean thinks that it was just because he and Gabriel had been laughing because  _this_  laugh sounds different. More real; happier. It's cute, if he's being honest. Which is fine to think, thinking is okay because you don't have to act on the things you think, Dean mentally reminds himself. He's allowed to think Castiel is cute and still be his friend. He does wish that _"Castiel is fucking cute as fuck."_    **wasn't**  at the forefront of his mind, but he can still deal with it.

"Goodnight, Dean," Castiel says softly, still grinning. He backs away, towards his house, waving once before turning and picking up leftover trash still on the grass. He flashes Dean another smile before he gets in his house after realizing that Dean hasn't moved from his spot at the gate, just kind of watching Castiel move. Which yeah, creepy.

"See ya tomorrow, guys," he calls, hoping to play off his accidental creepyness and turning to head back to his own house. Stupid, goofy smile stuck on his face the whole way. He can't wait for Sam to get back home; he's sure he'll love Gabriel.

When he gets back home, his mind still isn't really wrapped around the fact that his family isn't there. Pleased that he doesn't have to make himself dinner thanks to Gabriel, he heads to his room and changes into sweat pants and takes the comforter off his bed. He stops by the kitchen and grabs a juice box before plopping in front of the TV, not finding anything interesting jumping out at him. He really was just going to watch The Walking Dead the majority of the night, but if he's going to be marathon-ing it with Castiel and Gabe starting tomorrow, until they're all caught up (even though Dean's seen all the episodes anyways - he just likes the fighting and killing and blood which is kind of stereotypical but it's true) he doesn't want to start any tonight. He calls his Mom and Dad again, and Uncle Bobby too, not even surprised at the voice mail picking up again and just sighs, laying back on the couch prepared to watch crappy TV until his head explodes, but sleep finds him sooner than he expected it to that night. And so he sleeps on the sofa that night, curled up under his blanket and snoring, reruns of Friends playing softly and barely lighting the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, lovely people! Leave me a comment or something if you want or have time because it'd make me v happy and you're all super cool for reading this at all. (I'm sucking up because you're fabulous. Seriously. You fab.) Feedback is my favie. (other than you, you're my #1 favie)
> 
> Oh, and if you have any predictions I'd love to hear em!


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry this took a bit longer to get up, personal things got a bit in the way, but I am back! Hopefully you missed me cause I missed writing this. Let me know what you think!

Dean's driving. He's in his Dad's Impala; his old man actually let him borrow it for a few hours to go out with friends to some party. The music playing, it's some indie band on the radio with a crooning singer and a great bass line that he would never admit aloud to enjoying because no, Dean Winchester listens to old, classic rock. The passenger seat is empty next to him, which is odd. Whenever he is allowed to drive the Impala, he's typically picking up his little brother up from his after school science club. Or his after school baseball practice. Or a friends house. You know what, just to be safe, whenever he's driving his Dad's car it's because he's picking up Sammy from somewhere.

Otherwise he's catching a ride from someone else; this car is his Dad's baby.

Being alone in it though, it makes him beyond nervous and the roads are slick even though Dean's sure it was summer yesterday, mid June. It does not snow in June, there is not ice on the roads in June and it is safe to drive in June. He taps the breaks as the light a couple blocks ahead of him turns yellow and he doesn't want to chance it and try to make the light before it turns red, so he stops, only there's black ice everywhere and Dean feels his heart jump to his throat as he skids across the intersection into oncoming traffic-

He wakes with a start, still on the couch and with his blanket pushed to the floor. He's broken out in a sweat because of the dream, which even in his sleep he should have recognized was a dream. Why would he be driving his Dad's precious car in the winter? It's still dark outside, looks like it's maybe two in the morning. Of course, he can't look at the clock or his phone because the clocks aren't working, so he just sits up and groans, rubbing the heals of his palms against his tired eyes. Dean stays up watching TV mindlessly for who knows how long before he falls back asleep, still dark outside.

~

When Dean wakes again, he's thankful it isn't after a nerve wracking nightmare, but to a knock on his door. His eyes instinctively look to the spot on the wall where the clock use to hang but there's only a dust mark framing where it should be. He sighs, pulling himself up off the couch and searching the floor for his shirt that he threw off after waking up covered in sweat last night. Too tired to look too hard, he just yawns and scratches his jaw, squinting through the peephole and seeing Gabriel and Castiel stood on his porch. Gabriel must see his eye through the hole because he grins and waves and even through his sleepiness and the tiny space he's looking though, he sees Castiel roll his eyes at his brother.

He's smiling when he opens the door, waving an arm behind him and letting the two teenagers enter and he closes the door behind them. "Hey guys," he greats, finally.

"Did we wake you?" Castiel asks, at the same time Gabriel asks, "did you sleep on the couch?" Both eying the blanket thrown across the floor.

"Yes and yes," he nods, padding though the arch that leads to the kitchen area, waving his hand so they'll follow after. "Don't worry about it though. And I didn't mean to, it just sorta happened."

Neither of the boys are really replying, just looking around Dean's house in a sort of awe, sharing a look before turning to Dean once again. "Nice digs, man," says Gabriel, running his hand over the counter top. Castiel has wandered off into the dining area. They've got a bar that sits four in the kitchen that works as a wrap around counter as well. He and Sam use to eat breakfast together those early high school mornings there so they didn't get anything on the table cloth where family meals were held. Well, before Dean graduated. And technically it was middle school for Sam, but the point is they ate together in the mornings before heading off to school. The only time the dinner table saw any action was on Christmas, Thanksgiving and Easter when his mom went all out and aunts and uncles and cousins came over for big events. Other than that, they'd eat at the kitchen bar or they'd all sit in the living room together.

Dinner was always together; no matter where it was held, the four of them were together.

"Thanks," he smiles, poking his head in the fridge. He figures Gabriel made him dinner last night so the least he could do is ask to make them breakfast. "You guys want some food? I'm not good at breakfast," he admits, -mentally adding _or lunch or dinner_ \- grinning, "but I can make any kind of eggs and bacon combination you can think of."

Gabriel shrugs, looking to Castiel who is out of view from Dean, asking, "you hungry?" The answer must be a silent yes, because Gabriel nods at Dean, pulling out the stool and sitting at the bar, patting the seat next to him for his brother to come sit down.

"I could help," he says instead of sitting, watching Dean pull out a pan from a cabinet and eye it curiously before deciding it will work and sitting it on the counter. Castiel goes to the corner counter and lifts himself up, plopping right down on it and flashing a smile at Dean. "To save our house from being burnt to the ground, I try to keep Gabe out of the kitchen so I do most of it. If you want, y'know."

"You guys are my guests," Dean argues, pulling a crate of eggs from his fridge, along with a gallon of milk and pack of bacon. "You don't have to cook."

"I like cooking," he shrugs, pushing fingers through greasy hair.

Dean doesn't necessarily give in to Castiel, per say. The kid just takes it upon himself to start up on the bacon himself when Dean goes upstairs to pee and get a fresh shirt because popping bacon is quite painful on bare skin, thank you very much. So he just rolls his eyes and plops himself on the counter where Castiel had been, lifting his legs underneath him. The counter's cold on his bare feet, but now that he's made the effort of sitting like this, he doesn't want to move.

"So hey, do you know what time it is? Because my clocks are all sorts of fucked," he blurts out over the sizzle of bacon, stretching up slightly and grabbing a handful of plates in the cabinet behind his head.

"I don't have my watch," Castiel replies simply, which...okay. So he turns to Gabriel, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't have mine either."

"And neither of you carry your phones with you?" He asks, eyebrows narrowed as his eyes flick between the brothers. Castiel is not returning his gaze like he had been last night, staring avidly into the pan.

"Our phone's at home?" He says it slowly, like Dean is a toddler.

 _Our phone,_ Dean thinks that's pretty odd but doesn't comment. Maybe they share one; they do live in a house without their parents, he's learned, and they are just teenage boys. Maybe they can't afford separate cell phones.

"It's whatever," he shrugs, hopping off the counter and holding a free plate out to Castiel and he slides the now cooked bacon onto it, and without even asking, starts opening up cabinets. He finds what he's looking for and grabs a bowl, cracking six eggs into it and adding milk, already stirring the mixture together when he looks up at Dean for the first time, smiling sheepishly and asking, "you're okay with scrambled eggs, right? I uh, just figured they're easier to make in bulk than making fried or whatever an-"

He's cut off with Dean's laughter, said boy slapping him on the back and shaking his head, still grinning. "Chill, man, it's fine. Don't be so nervous. Me casa, su casa and all that."

The shorter boy lets out a definite relieved sigh, smiling easily before dropping his gaze back to the task at hand; making the three of them breakfast even though Dean offered. Which, whatever, Dean doesn't really mind.

~

Gabriel, it turns out, loves zombie shows. Castiel too, but watching both of their reactions is more entertaining for Dean than the actual show because they're so different. Gabe, for one, he cheers whenever someone gets shot. _Every. Time._  Like he's never seen a kill shot on TV or something. He just seems to really enjoy the show as a whole, which is good because Dean can't be friends with people who don't like the same shows as him. Castiel looks genuinely confused about pretty much everything happening. They both comment on how clear the picture on the TV is, how cool it is that he's fast-forwarding the commercials, how real the zombies look. They're just shocked about everything and Dean feels like he's hanging out with a bunch of easily impressed five year olds who have never seen high technology.

They make it through the first season in one sitting before Dean gets up to fetch everyone snacks and they can all take a bathroom break. He pops a bag of popcorn in the microwave and sits on the counter top white it cooks, Castiel entering soon after and leaning across from Dean.

"Your house is really nice," he says over the sound of the buzzing microwave.

"It's okay," he shrugs, smiling. "I mean we don't have a pool, but eh, what can yo-"

"We have a pool," Castiel interrupts, and Dean raises an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"You have a freakin' pool and we're inside watching TV right now? It's like ninety degrees out!" Castiel only shrugs, scratching the back of his neck and casting his innocent eyes to the floor.

Gabriel comes in from the front door after having a smoke outside, right when the microwave starts going off and immediately cuts the two of them off with, "Zombie killin' time!" before he plops on the sofa once again, stretching out across the entire length of it. At least he seems comfortable around Dean, he supposes.

"We'll swim another time, Dean," Castiel assures him with a grin, pushing his hair out of his face and heading back towards Gabriel in the living room. Dean quickly un-pauses the TV show for them and pulls the popcorn out, only burning his hands slightly, and putting it in a bowl. In the living room, Gabe is taking up the whole couch and Castiel is in Dean's father's lazy boy chair, the foot stand kicked up and everything. They look like they've been here forever, rather than this being the first time in Dean's house. Dean though, he lays out on the love seat, hogging the bowl of popcorn for himself where it's sat on his stomach. He tosses handfuls at the guys whenever they ask, though.

Dean finds himself grinning because shit, this is how friendships are made. And that's a good feeling.

~

Dean sleeps in his own bed that night. Granted, not until long passed the sun going down because Castiel and Gabe stayed long enough to have a dinner of tacos, curiosity of Castiel, and then finish up the second season of The Walking Dead. Dean figures it was probably about two in the morning when they left his house, but you know, he has no access to a clock so who knows. He offered to let them stay because they're going to hang out tomorrow again probably, but they declined politely and headed home in the dark, the only light being from the red ends of their cigarettes.

Crawling into bed after a nice shower, he quickly falls asleep, wrapped in his blankets and cozy.

For maybe an hour.

Because then he's waking up sweating and with the covers pushed away from him, the same dream that he had the previous night fresh on his mind. Dean's only had a few reoccurring dreams in his life; when he was younger he made the mistake of watching _The Texas Chainsaw Massacre_  and the week following he kept having dreams of being tied by his wrists to a hanging pipe, bag over his head suffocating him slowly, waking up panting and crying. His mom would come in and wait for him to fall back asleep, petting his wet hair softly, which should have embarrassed ten year old Dean, but really he loved it. And then the whole, going through puberty thing which left him with a lot of reoccurring dreams, but those were quite pleasant and he at least got to rest, even if he had to secretly wash his sheets in the morning.

But those were years ago, and for the second night in a row, he dreams of wrecking his father's beloved car, waking up seconds before the initial crash which leaves him shaking and off for the rest of the night. He falls back asleep a bit later, the sun just starting to rise in the sky as he finally dozes off for good.

And it's nice, because this dream isn't filled with wintery roads and scary car crashes, but with a certain next door neighbor alone with him in his pool. He's angry when he wakes up, because dream Castiel was shirtless and wet and they were in the shallow end of the pool, Dean all crowded into the corner with blue eyes and dark hair in his personal space, lips on his neck and goddammit why did he have to wake up?

He groans in annoyance and instinctively looks towards his clock which is a no-go because yeah, no one knows the fucking time. When Dean has more blood in his upstairs head he'll remember to investigate that shit more because it's getting irritating, never knowing what time it is. But right now that isn't really his first priority, so he just closes his eyes and slips a hand in his sweat pants, thoughts of dream Castiel fresh on his mind.

He feels guilty when he can't keep his eyes off of real Castiel, sat on the swing on his front porch with a cigarette hanging from his full lips later that day. He tires hard not to think about how nice dream Castiel's lips felt on his skin because it's one thing to jerk off thinking about your new neighbor and friend, but it's another to be all hung up on it because at some point it passes into awkward and weird land, and Dean doesn't want it to get there. If it isn't already, that is.

"You okay?" Gabriel asks after and unmeasured amount of time with Dean's eyes tracing over his little brother's lips and jawline and neck and yeah, Dean feels weird now.

"Yeah, why?" He responds, finally tearing his eyes off of Castiel to land on Gabe, who is staring at him in a much different way than Dean had just been at Cas and so he shakes his head, sighing. "I just had a weird dream last night. Feel kinda off is all."

The brothers share a look and Dean hates when they do that because he doesn't know what the looks mean but it's like an unspoken language for the two of them. "What about?" Castiel asks.

"It's nothing, really." He says, shrugging a shoulder but the both of them keep looking at him and so sighs thinking back to the first dream, the one that isn't about dream Castiel and dream Dean about to have sex in a pool and is totally safe to tell them. "I wrecked my Dad's car," he blurts out, looking to the empty spot where the Impala is normally parked. "I had the same dream two nights in a row. The car is like my Dad's third kid so he'd kill me if I actually did. Left me kinda fucked up. No big deal."

They look at each other again and Dean sighs, rolling his eyes.

"What?" They ask in unison and Dean shakes his head.

"Nothing. We gonna stand out here while you guys smoke all day, or what?"

"We could go swimming," Castiel suggests and Dean's immediate thought is of his dream so he shakes his head quickly.

"No," he says simply, looking between them. "I mean, we can, but uh, Gabe, he wanted to watch zombie killing so we-"

"Kid's got my back," Gabriel grins, slapping Dean on the back as he passes into his house, like he fucking lives there. Dean smiles sheepishly at Castiel before following the older brother, leaving the door open for Castiel behind him.

The day is uneventful and Dean naps on the love seat while they watch TV and he's happy that car crashes and dream Castiel stay away from his brain this time, leaving him dreamlessly snoring, the guys throwing things at his face. Friendship is a weird thing.

~

The next day they're out on Dean's porch at what Dean thinks is dinner time. The three of them are smoking, though Dean still doesn't like the taste, and Castiel is talking about what to make for dinner when a guy with what can only be described as a mullet walks out of the Valensi house holding a skateboard. Dean hasn't seen his neighbors much, but he blames it on Castiel and Gabe. They've kept him pretty much locked in his own house marathoning The Walking Dead and Dean wonders what they'll even do when they get to the end of the last season on Netflix. But even with not seeing them, he thinks he'd remember this guy. He looks younger than Dean; skinny as a rail, ratty clothes and who even skateboards anymore?

"Whose that?" Dean asks, mostly just trying to mask the coughing fit he's suffering through.

The brothers both turn to see who Dean was pointing at, and look at each other in one of those _ways_  and Dean thinks it's becoming a tradition for them to stand on his front porch and smoke while Gabe and Castiel silently speak to each other with only their eyes.

"Ash," Gabriel answers, blowing smoke rings. "I uh- pretty sure we met him when we moved, right Cas? Names Ash, right?"

"Weird kid," Castiel agrees, stubbing out his cigarette.

The guy, Ash, skates by them and it looks like that'll be it, that he'll just keep on going by on his way but he spots them and grins, riding right up to the fence, opening the gate and stepping closer to the three of them. Dean already agrees with Castiel about him being off.

"Hey guys," he waves, then looks to Dean and raises an eyebrow. "New kid," he says, and Dean doesn't know if that's a question or a statement or if he even said it, because the guy is so _weird_ , coming into Dean's yard, greeting everybody, calling Dean new and just, what?

When it appears no one is going to speak up, Dean shakes his head no. "Uh, no. I've lived here like, my whole life?"

The guy flicks his eyes to Castiel and when he nods Ash sighs, shaking his head with a grin. "No dude, I meant him. And uh, him," he adds, pointing to the two other boys. "I helped them move in a couple days ago. Obviously I didn't mean you, they're the ones who just moved in."

Dean nods, understanding, and grins himself, shaking the guy's extended hand. "Dean," he introduces, trying to subtly stub out his cigarette and toss it into the garden while every one's eyes are on the new arrival to the trio.

"Ash," he smiles, and Dean decides that, ignoring the weirdness, the guy seems pretty nice. Dean wants to ask why he's never seen him before in his life, and why he's all the sudden coming out of his neighbors house, but for some reason he doesn't. Hardly knowing the guy, he could be staying with family for the summer; who knows.

"Welp," Ash sighs, tapping the fingers of his right hand against the board he's holding, slightly raising it. "It was nice to meet you Dean, but I'm on my way right now. Maybe I'll see you guys around some time."

"Yeah, for sure," he nods, smiling and the brothers wave. He shares a moment of, what Dean thinks would be considered, awkward eye contact with Castiel and it reminds him of the weird Gabriel/Castiel looks and he doesn't think it's fair that he isn't getting silent looks but this weirdo with a mullet is. Again, he doesn't mention anything of it and the three of them head into the house again and Castiel starts looking around Dean's pantry, pulling out things he could use to make them dinner.

Dean liked the guy, Ash. He was nice enough and polite and only slightly off, but he thinks Castiel and Gabe are a bit off too, so that doesn't really matter. But, if he's being honest with himself, he doesn't want the guy to join their unofficial friendship group. Which yeah, makes him sound pretty lame and immature and jealous but he likes the flow with these guys; likes Gabriel's sarcasm and stupid comments and Castiel's cooking and imagining him naked and Dean doesn't want to add another guy because _no,_  three is enough, four is pushing it.

Castiel made this weird family recipe for dinner with biscuits and pasts sauce and meat and onions for them that Dean thought looked and sounded disgusting but it turned out to be delicious as hell. And when they leave later that night and Dean finds himself alone again, he unwraps the left-overs that Castiel covered for him (and proceeded to remind him to take the foil off _before_  putting it in the microwave about a hundred times, "just to be safe") and heats it up, taking it up to his bedroom and eating it while watching Family Guy reruns in bed.

When he lays down for sleep, he curls up and hopes that tonight shitty nightmares will avoid him so he can get some real sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about any mistakes, btw, should probably say this is un-beta'd. All mistakes are bc of myself. Leave comments/kudos? I promise, it will make more sense soon and isn't really suppose to right now. I'll update again soon!


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